


Countryhumans One-Shots

by JustSkulkingAround



Category: CountryHumans, Geography (Anthropomorphic)
Genre: Gen, M/M, UK is an asshole, if I do decide to include smut, if you wanna get to know them, it will be clearly labeled, mostly just fluff, not a good parent, the states make appearances too, this ain't the place
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 18,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28221237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSkulkingAround/pseuds/JustSkulkingAround
Summary: Just some short stories
Relationships: Russia/United States (Anthropomorphic)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	1. Just Ask Him Out!

The UN meeting is being held in New York City, and Russia feels like this meeting would never end. UN drones on about things that don't affect his country. He's having an even harder time listening because he is also constantly being distracted by America and his exaggerated hand motions.

The hours drag on, and Russia gets lost in thought surrounding America's laugh, smiling softly and staring into space.

"What are you thinking about?" Ukraine asks, interrupting his train of thought.

Russia's head shot up, and his face grows hot. Ukraine laughs.

"You should ask!" he teases, and Russia fights the urge to pull his hat over his face. Russia waves him off, but the idea sticks. He begins thinking and plans out a way to ask America out to eat.

Russia stands as soon as the meeting is dismissed and approaches America, one thing on his mind.

"Would you like to go to dinner with me?" Russia asks, extending a hand out to help America up out of his seat.

America chokes on his drink.

"WhAt?" America exclaims, and his voice cracks. America's white stripes turn red.

"If you do not want to-" Russia replies, looking sheepish, and he begins retracting his hand. He curses himself, and his eyes lock on his shoes.

"NO! No, it's...it's not that," America soothes. Russia looks back up and sees America running a hand through his hair, "I'd love to! I would. I just wasn't expecting it," America explains.

America stands up and throws his bag over his shoulder. He flashes Russia with a smile that turns Russia into a puddle of fuzzy feelings and love-struck smiles. Russia's face goes red, and his mind goes blank.

"Well, did you have anywhere in mind?" America asks.

"*I..uhm..yes?...N-...uhm...*" Russia stammers out.

America laughs and grabs Russia's hand. Russia stares down at his hand in surprise.

"Come on, I know a place," America chirps, and he runs out of the room, dragging Russia behind him. Russia could've sworn he saw Ukraine wink.


	2. Date Interruptions and Meetings

'Thoughts' / "Speech"

Russia wasn't quite sure what to expect on the second date, but America seemed to have planned it all out. They are seated across from each other in a fancy French restaurant, and both were dressed to the nines. Russia had a hard time keeping his eyes off his partner.

"Ya know, it's not every day that I see you with your hair styled," America comments.

"And what about it?" Russia questions, nervous.

"I don't know. I think I like it," America replies with a grin. Russia smiles proudly, and his cheeks turn light pink.

America's smile falls briefly, but it returns before Russia can question its absence, and their flirting continues until it's interrupted by the shrill noise of America's phone.

"I'm sorry, Russ, I gotta take this," America apologizes before answering the phone with a quick, "Hey, what's up?"

Russia listens to America curiously, trying to discern what the phone call was about. America had no problem ignoring France's phone calls earlier that evening, so Russia wonders why this was more important.

"What's going on?... Slow down. I can't understand what you're- ... okay..." 

Russia sees America's face fall, and his eyebrows furrow. He can't make out what's being said on the phone, but it worries America. America stands up

"That's a lot worse than I thought it was... yeah, I'm okay... no... yeah, I'll leave now. I'll be there in a few hours. Can you wait that long?... Okay, I'll see you then. Bye," America says, hanging up the phone, and he moves to grab his jacket, and Russia spots something on the dress shirt he's wearing.

"Wait," Russia calls, and America pauses, "are you okay?"

"What are you talking about?" America asks, perplexed.

"You're bleeding," Russia remarks, standing up.

"Oh... listen, I'm fine," America says, trying to wave off Russia's concern and cover the dark red stain on his side.

"Let me at least check first," Russia insists.

"Fine, but be fast," America relents.

They walk back to the bathroom and, thankfully, found it to be empty. America pulls up his shirt to expose the wound. Russia looks at it carefully. It doesn't look like a scratch or puncture wound. It looks like a fresh gash that, had it happened normally, it would've damaged the cloth covering it.

"What happened?" he asks.

"Domestic problems. Can we hurry this up? Please?" America replies impatiently.

"Let me wrap it up, and then you can go," Russia insists.

America sighs but doesn't fight against it. Russia retrieves a roll of gauze and bandages normally saved to cover his arms, and he begins expertly wrapping America's injury. Russia forces himself to focus on dressing the wound and tries not to look elsewhere, despite the urge to explore. Being this close to America is distracting in and of itself, but he knew that he had to finish.

As soon as he backs up, America drops his shirt and throws on his jacket to cover the bloodstain.

"Thank you. Listen, I'm sorry, but I have to go," America says, exiting the bathroom with Russia on his heels.

"Okay. Go, it seems important. Will you be back for tomorrow's meeting?" Russia replies.

"Yes, but I might be late," America sighs, "but it's the best I can do right now. Bye, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodbye. Good luck," Russia says, waving. He does feel disappointed that their evening had been cut short, but wasn't going to force America to stay. He sits back down at the table alone and wonders if the injury and the phone call were somehow related.

He returns to his hotel room later that night, trying to keep his worry at bay. 'America can handle himself,' he thinks, reassuring himself as best he can.

When he goes to the meeting the next day, he doesn't see America. Just before the meeting begins, Russia informs UN that America is currently dealing with a domestic issue. UN nods and the frustrated expression he had worn fades into one of understanding.

UK looks pleased that America had not yet arrived, but Canada looks worried. Russia returns to his seat and finds himself watching the door more than listening to the meeting.

About two hours after the meeting started, America arrives, exhausted. He falls into the empty seat next to Russia with a mumbled "hi."

Russia nods in acknowledgment.

"Finally, the brat arrives!" UK mumbles sarcastically. Russia narrows his eyes, and America ignores the comment.

"He was dealing with a domestic issue. His tardiness has been excused," UN announces, looking at UK in particular.

UK rolls his eyes and glares at America. America slumps in his chair and sighs. Russia was positive that had it not been for the sunglasses; he would see large bags marred under America's eyes from another sleepless night.

"Are you okay?" Russia whispers.

America looks up before smiling softly. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just tired, you know? Didn't get any sleep last night and forgot to grab coffee on the way here," he replies quietly, shaking his head, "'sides, I don't think I'll be able to go and get any with UK here."

"I could get it for you," Russia offers, and America stares at him like he's some superhero.

"Really?" America asks, his tone hopeful. Russia nods.

"Do you care about what's in it?" Russia asks.

"Not really. I like cream and sugar, but at this point, as long as it's caffeinated, it's fine," America answers.

Russia nods and stands. UK looks up at him, suspicious of the exchange he had seen. Russia gives him a glare in return before leaving the room. He returns shortly after with a disposable cup and sits back down, handing it to America.

America takes it as if it's full of gold. Russia smiles, but his smile falls when he turns back and sees UK scowling at him.

'It was going to be a long day,' he decides.


	3. First Kiss

America walks up to Russia with a large smile. It had been a while since they had seen each other, and America is excited to see him again. Russia glances up and averts his eyes. Scanning his face, America walks over.

"Hey, Russ. What's wrong? Why are you so upset?"

Russia looks away at his feet.

"Aw, come on? What's wrong?"

"I am supposed to be courting you. I would like to, but..."

"Aw. You don't have to."

"But, I...I want to give you something. But the flowers are gone and I.."

"Oh, Russ, don't be upset."

"But I have to give you something!"

America's face goes pink when an idea came to mind.

"Come on. Follow me."

America leads Russia around the UN building, out of view of everyone else.

"America?"

"There is something you can give me."

"What?"

"Kiss me."

"...like a greeting?"

"No! No. Like romantically. Ya know..."

America looks away and rubs his arm. His face burns. He looks up at Russia after not hearing a reaction. Russia stares back with a bright red face.

"Really?"

"Yeah, unless you don't want.."

Russia shakes his head.

Russia steps forward and gently grasps America's face. His hands gently brush America's cheeks. America looks up and closes his eyes. Russia guilds him forward, and the second his lips touch Russia's, he feels electricity spark. His hands and feet feel fuzzy. Butterflies flutter in his stomach. He wraps his arms around Russia's back, and America feels gentle hands grab his hips.

He feels himself relax, melting into a warm, fuzzy mess.

He pulls Russia closer. Their chests touch, and his heart feels like it's pounding out of his chest. His lungs scream for breath, and he pulls away.

He opens his eyes and sees Russia looking back with eyes half-closed, and his mouth still partially open. America can't help himself. He begins giggling so hard his shoulders shake. He covers his mouth to muffle it, but Russia pulls his hand away.

"Don't cover your mouth."

"Why not?"

"It's too cute."

America beams with flushed cheeks before ducking his head again, giggling.

He hugs Russia tightly, on cloud nine.

"That was awesome," America says.

"Maybe I should give you kisses more often."


	4. Bouncy Castle Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uninvited guests get what they deserve when forcing their way into America's party.

America promised himself that this year was going to be fun.

All the states came this year, and Canada even came early with the provinces to celebrate Canada's birthday yesterday. It had taken a lot of energy to set up the inflatables, but he had a blast jumping with the kids and using the giant slide.

Yelling and laughter ring through the air, and water balloons fly.

"'BAMA! Stop eatin' all the hot dogs!"

"Illinois! You're not aLLOWED TO TAKE ALL THE WATERMELON!!"

America sits back in the afternoon sun and enjoys the warmth on his face.

"DAD! SOMEONE'S HERE TO TALK TO YOU!" someone shouts from the back door of the house.

America sighs and gets up from his spot. However, the statement does have him slightly confused. It's normally only the states and Canada's group who come for his birthday.

He walks inside and opens the front door. He finds Russia standing on the doorstep, looking embarrassed.

"Hey, Russ. What's up?"

"It's your birthday, so I brought a gift. I did not know you were having a party."

"Oh yeah! Thanks! Come on in."

Russia walks in with his head down.

"Hi Mr. Russia!"

"HI RUSS!"

"That's Russia? Wow, he's tall. No wonder he's friends with dad."

"I heard that!" America calls.

He turns back to Russia, "you can put that over here. I'm planning to open everything later, but I'm keeping out of harm's way for now."

America opens a coat closet, and Russia sets the box on top of a colorful stack. America looks up and smiles.

"Gotta say, it's kinda weird to see you without your long sleeves and hat."

Russia's face goes flush. America laughs and pats his shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, Ruski, you look great. Besides, it's hot outside anyway."

America walks Russia outside, and Texas waves in greeting before smacking Alabama's hand away with tongs.

"There are a lot of people here," Russia comments.

"Yup. Most of 'em are my states, though Canada and his provinces are here to. Aussie and them wanted to come, but he got busy," America says with a shrug.

America walks over to the blanket with Russia and sits down when Virginia runs over.

"Pops, UK is here with France. They got a lot of questions 'n forced their way into the mudroom. Massy is about to explode."

America sighs deeply and stands up.

"Sorry Russ, I gotta go handle this. I should be right back. Feel free to explore and whatnot."

America hurries inside with Virginia, hoping that Massachusetts hasn't cursed anyone yet. The state was close when America gets inside.

"MASSACHUSETTS! Stop this instant!"

Massachusetts freezes and then slowly lowers his arms.

"Fine."

America turns back to the two visitors.

"And you two! What are you doing here? How did you get here?!"

"Canada mentioned that you two were having a joint birthday party. It took a lot to get the address out of him. We also saw Russia walk in, so we did too," France replies, fixing her hair.

"Utah, can you go get your uncle for me, please?"

"Okay, Dad."

"We meant to come earlier but couldn't," France says in an unapologetic tone.

"What's with the sudden interest?" America questions, suspicious.

"Mom?! What are you...?" Canada interjects.

"Did you seriously give them the address of the Big House?!" America shouts.

"I did WHAT?!" Canada shrieks.

"Oh, will you stop with the yelling? The twat didn't give it to us without a bit of persuasion."

Canada's eyes go wide, and his face goes pale.

"Magic," he mutters. 

The anger that had grown for Canada disappears in an instant. But a lump grows in his throat when he turns back to UK. He scowls.

"YOU USED MAGIC ON UNCLE CANADA!?!" Massachusetts roars. The state sprints forward, and his hands and eyes glow bright green with magic. Louisiana grabs him.

"Massy, like it or not, they are guests. We can't hurt 'em. 'Least, not yet," she says.

"Fine, but I'm telling the others," Massachusetts mutters. Louisiana releases him, and he runs outside.

"And America, I would like to know who all these people are," UK says, looking distastefully at the states that peak in at the conflict.

"Wouldn't you like to know? These 'people' are states and provinces who should really be outside."

The crowd outside the hallway dissipates quickly.

"Well, aren't you going to introduce us?" UK asks.

"No, not if I don't have to," America bits back.

"Canada?"

"What? You expect Am(pronounces aim) to welcome you in when you got the address out of me with magic?"

"We are not leaving," UK says.

America sighs in defeat.

"Fine. Come on."

America begrudgingly leads them outside and looks around. He notices that Russia isn't on the blanket anymore but shrugs it off.

"Dad, DUCK!" one of the states shouts. America dives with Canada, and a barrage of water balloons fly above them, hitting UK and France.

France shrieks.

"AMERICA! CONTROL THESE BLOODY CHILDREN!"

America smirks.

"Nah. It's my birthday. I don't have to do anything. Besides, you're the one who insisted on staying."

UK scowls.

America walks away and ignores the shouting behind him. Normally, he would scold the states for acting in such a manner, but UK and France put him in a bad mood, so he turns a blind eye.

He walks over to Texas and takes one of the burgers of the plate. Texas almost smacks him before recognizing him as not Alabama.

"Howdy, dad. What was happening in there."

"My 'parents' barged in and demanded to participate, so I am ignoring the consequences."

Texas laughs loudly. 

"No wonder Massachusetts was so mad! He even had-"

"Don't tell me. The less I know, the better."

Texas grins and nods.

America walks over to the fold-up table and finishes putting together his food. He returns to the blanket and begins eating. He looks around for Russia and catches a glimpse of his flag in the bouncy house. He chokes for a second and shovels the rest of his burger into his mouth before walking over. He gets closer and sees Russia flying through the air, and the states work together to bounce him high into the air.

"Come on y'all! Let's get him to the ceiling!" Kentucky yells. The others cheer.

On the next launch, Russia hits the ceiling, and the states cheer and fall back. Russia lands and bounces a few times and laughs loudly.

"Hi dad!"

"Hi daddy!"

America smiles.

"Hi guys. You having fun?"

"Yeah! Mr. Russia came to play with us," Alaska says happily.

"He did? Well, can I join you too?"

"Yeah!! Come on!" Kansas cheers.

America climbs in and begins jumping with the rest of the states. Russia scrambles up and jumps alongside America, and they all laugh like young mortal children.

America is put in the middle and bounced to high heaven. He laughs and spins in the air. Then Russia joins him, and they ricochet against each other when the states launch them into the air. America shrieks with laughter.

When he finally gets a break from bouncing, he stands up and drags Russia behind him. He hops out of the inflatable castle with Russia, out of breath, and so happy.

"Come on!" he laughs and runs to the inflatable water slide. Russia laughs breathlessly behind him.

They speed to the top of the structure and race down the slides. Water splashes up, and Russia wins the race to the bottom. America splashes water at Russia, and Russia laughs. America hops up, and Russia chases after him.

America runs laughing and trips. He tumbles and flails, landing face down in a pool of mud. Russia laughs hysterically. America scowls, then smirks. He hops up and charges at Russia, hugging him tightly. Russia shrieks and tries to push him off. America tightens his grip. Russia kicks him back into the mud.

America pulls Russia down on top of him and wrestled him into the mud. The two laugh and wrestle. They only happen to relax after their flags became so covered in mud that they were near unrecognizable. 

The two lay side by side, laughing. America finds that he can't stop. Every time he calms down, he looks over at Russia, and another fit of laughter takes him. He clutches his stomach and howls.

"How irresponsible. You are nothing but a bloody child. Allowing your children to run wild," UK says, standing above America with a scowl. America abruptly silences and sits up stiffly.

"Well? You haven't bloody cha-"

UK is cut off by a mouth full of mud. America spins around and sees Russia sitting beside him, smirking, and holding a handful of mud. UK sputters and growls. Russia pulls America to his feet and the two escape, cackling.

America sees the other states begin laughing as well. Water balloons fly around them, and water splashes everywhere, rinsing and diluting the dirt on their faces and clothes. The two collapse onto America's blanket and panting heavily. 

America stares up at the blue afternoon sky, grinning.


	5. Gingerbread

Russia sticks his tongue out in concentration and tries to put his finishing touch on the gingerbread house. He had sprinkles and a little frosting in his hair, but he doesn't mind. He can hear the states running amock around him, eating candy and smashing gingerbread.

"Hey Russ," America calls from beside him, giggling.

"Yes?"

"Close your eyes, put your head back, and open your mouth."

Russia shrugs. With his hands, he holds his house steady. He leans back, expecting a piece of candy or maybe a kiss, only to get a face full of whipped cream. He stiffened.

America had tried to get all of it into Russia's mouth, he really did, but his giggling shakes his hand. So instead, he sprayed some in Russia's mouth, but some landed on his nose and an eyebrow.

America loses his composure completely and begins laughing hysterically.

"What did you do?" Russia asks, sounding a little muffled and completely baffled.

America looks at him but his answer is lost in another fit of laughter.

"Here," America forces out through his giggles, "let me help you."

Russia feels his head is tilted back and relaxes a little, only to freeze.

America leans over and licks the whipped cream off his face.

Russia's jaw drops and he stares at America, completely stunned. America giggles widely. 

"Oops, looks like I missed some," America giggles before kissing Russia deeply. 

Russia closes his eyes and sugar and glee fill his senses, and he smiles into America's mouth. Eventually, America pulls away and gives him a stunning grin. Russia finds himself returning it with a brilliant grin of his own.

Then America looks to his right and begins laughing hard enough to fall against Russia. Russia catches him and pecks his forehead. Then he turns to look at where America had been looking and sees that at some point, he had moved his hands, and all his hard work fell apart in a frosting covered mess.

Russia pouts, and America chuckles before leaning up and nuzzling Russia's forehead.

"It looks lovely," America says.

"Don't lie. It looks like Texas's," New York shouts from across the room.

"HEY! Mine ain't that bad!"

Russia laughs quietly. 

'What fun.'


	6. Friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Rusame, there was friendship.

Russia tells himself that he only watches America so closely because of his military power, though Ukraine and Belarus aren't convinced, no matter how much he insists. And if he's honest, his father wouldn't believe him either. 

He sits back in his seat, watching the meeting with a neutral expression. It was pretty boring overall. America had been obnoxious, as usual, but something seemed a little off. He seemed quiet, distracted almost.

America disappears after his presentation, and Russia leaves to find him an hour later. Though he would never admit that he does out of concern. He had claimed he was bored and walks out. No one would stop him, he knew. He walks around the building, knowing America would not be allowed to leave until the meeting is over. 

Russia continues to wander the empty halls and is about to give up his search when he hears something strange from inside the bathroom. He slowly walks in, peeking his head around the doorway. It sounds like someone is crying.

"Hello?" he calls into the room, but the crying doesn't stop.

Unsure of what else to do, he walks in further and follows the noise to a corner behind the counters and sinks and against the back wall. He pokes his head around the sinks and freezes.

"America?" Russia mutters. 

America chokes and he throws his sunglasses back down over his bloodshot eyes.

"What?" America snaps.

"I got curious about where you went," Russia says bluntly.

"Well, you found me," America growls, crossing his arms and angrily swiping at his face, "now what do you want?"

Russia clears his throat and avoids his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Russia asks, nervous. 

America tenses and he scans Russia's face before his face falls. 

"It just gets to be a little much," America mumbles, pulling off his sunglasses. Russia is struck by how tired he looks.

Russia locks the door to the restroom before squatting in front of America. 

"What's with the sudden interest?" America questions.

"Am I not allowed to be concerned?" Russia asks.

America grumbles. "What do you want me to tell you? That the only family I've got is one I raised and build? That I nearly had a panic attack in front of the entire world? Oh who am I kidding, the bullying is exhausting too." 

Russia gets closer and America sighs, rubbing his face.

"I'm just so tired and I couldn't take any more today, know what I mean?"

"No, but I do know that you need a hug," Russia says.

Honestly, he had shocked himself with what he had said. He knew he had a soft spot for America, though Ukraine would call it a crush. Though now, he knew he couldn't take it back.

America's head whips up, shock clear across his face. Then his head falls. He stands up and doesn't look up at Russia, just stands in front of him, his shoulders shaking slightly. Russia opens his arms in invitation. America pauses for a second before ramming into Russia's arms. Russia grunts at the collision but quickly wraps his arms around him.

Russia holds him tight and he tucks America's head into his shoulder. America relaxes a little into his hold. Russia feels warm at the contact and holds him tight. America clutches on as if he loosens his grip, Russia would disappear.

"It is okay. Everything is okay," Russia says quietly.

Russia holds him, supporting him, for a time that Russia doesn't bother to think about. Eventually, America begins to pull away, and Russia lets him go.

"Better?" Russia asks.

"Yeah. Thanks, Ruski," America says quietly before moving pulling out his phone, "what's your number?"

Russia recites it, a little confused, and feels his phone vibrate a moment later.

America walks out, unlocking the door, and Russia stares at his phone.

"Hey, it's the US of A. Thank you, and I mean it," the first message reads.

Then it buzzes again, "I know it's a little weird, but you know, a leap of faith and all. Friends?"

"Friends," Russia types, sending of the reply. America replies with a smiley-face. Russia smiles and pockets his phone.

Russia walks back into the meeting room and sees America sitting back with his family. He looks uncomfortable, Russia notes, concerned. He sits back in his seat and adds the phone to his contacts under the name 'Stars'. 

Russia smiles.


	7. American Hatred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a rant with profanity, blood, and politics surrounding what happened at the capital building on January 6th 2021

Canada watches from 6 ft beside America while he falls in and out of consciousness. Concern blossoms in his chest. He knew it was getting worse in the US, but he wasn't sure of the extent. America slumps back in his chair with a heavy jacket in the well-insulated room. His face is flush and his hair unkempt and knotted. America shivers. The sunglasses and the mask could only hide so much. 

America's head falls forward and slams into the table before he shot back up. The glasses clatter to the table.

Canada feels his concern grow even more seeing how exhausted America looks. He looked almost dead on his feet. America looks around, bleary-eyed before seeing the glasses on the table. He picks them up as if he hadn't realized they'd fallen and puts them back on.

"America?" England asks.

"What?" America asks.

"Are you okay?"

"...no," America replies quietly, facing no one in particular.

The countries all look to each other to do something. Canada stands up and is about to walk over when America's head flies forward, slamming into the table hard enough to shatter the lenses in the glasses and open a cut on his head. He doesn't sit back up.

America slumps over and falls to the floor, crumpling into a heap. 

"Amer-" Canada starts, his eyes wide. 

He's interrupted when America begins screaming. Just screaming. 

Canada takes a step back while America claws at his face, ripping off the mask and scratching away the stars and stripes that adorn his face.

Then America begins thrashing violently on the floor. Canada and Australia pull the chairs away and America begins frothing at the mouth, still screaming.

Then the sleeves of the jacket start to grow dark red.

Canada frantically looks up for one of the other representatives to have a plan. None of them seemed to know what to do either, so they watch in horror while America's voice grows shrill and breaks.

Canada desperately searches the room for a tv remote and turns on the American News. What greets him is something he never thought he'd see outside of movies.

Thousands of people crowd together in a country ravaged by an uncontrolled pandemic, invading the capital building. The President seemed to not only to have incited it, but was encouraging it.

"Where are the cops?!"

America had grown quiet, and Canada spins around to see him curled up in a ball, his hands and face out of view. The back of the jacket takes on a rusty red color.

They stare at the television coverage in complete horror

"The cops aren't there. Planned not to be there," America says in a low, horse tone. 

Canada spins around to look at him. His face is bloody and swollen with claw marks, his flag isn't distinguishable anymore. Canada gets to his side and pulls off the jacket, only to find it soaked with blood, and sees bumps of America's spine far too prominently under the red cloth on his brother's back.

"America..."

"What?"

"Did you know about this?"

"I'm not surprised," America replies quietly.

"This is a coup! A COUP!"

"I know. It's not fucking surprising! I'm pretty sure that if my government started bombing my states, I wouldn't be surprised! You think I don't know what's been going on?! I know my entire country is dying! I can feel it! I feel their hunger and sickness and their despair!" America shouts, sinking his fingernails into his temples, "You think I don't know they hate that they're Americans? I can't even look at my own face, at my own flag anymore. Cuz now it's racist and bigoted and horrible! You think I don't know my country's government is sold out to companies and that I have a cult leader lunatic at the helm?!"

America pulls up a little, showing off a bloody face and tears streaming down his face.

"My government abandoned my people! I've been trying to hold out, trying to make it out of this presidency alive! I KNOW I'm a dumpster fire with fucking babies sitting inside of the god damn thing, but I'm just trying to make it out the other side! My people are just trying to survive! The people in charge didn't do anything! Couldn't pass almost any financial support! Do you think I don't hate myself for it?! Well, you're fucking wrong! Most of my people don't want to be Americans anymore, and the ones that do are the ones going against what I'm built on."

America throws his arms out, and Canada feels horrified by the blood-soaked bandages that cover them.

"What?! You think I can have that high of a fucking death toll and not have consequences? Go ahead, gawk! I know I'm a fucking joke! These don't even last a few hours anymore."

Canada listens in fear at the destruction and how the citizens brag about their treason while waving American flags. 

How they throw the American flag to the ground and fly the flag of an attempted dictator.

"I will fall like the Roman Republic," America says quietly, almost reserved. "with an orange Ceasar at the helm."

America curls on himself and a pool of blood begins to surround him on the floor as he shivered there, completely unresponsive to any attempt to get his attention.


	8. Oops, New Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Poland storms off from a country meeting, he finds more than he could imagine.
> 
> "*Polish*"

Poland scowls and storms out of the meeting. The Nations meeting was called in New York, but Poland could almost feel America's apprehension in the air. Why he was so nervous, Poland didn't care to find out. 

'Those countries are so frustrating.'

He wanders through the halls of the building blindly, trying to calm himself down before he started screaming. After a few minutes of quickly trekking through the hallways, he looks around only to realize he's lost in a part of the building he'd never seen before.

He huffs in frustration.

'Now where am I?'

He contemplates asking for help and ultimately decides that no, he was not going to ask anyone for directions. He could find his way back himself.

After an hour of wandering deeper into the twisting hallways, he scowls and kicks the wall. 

'Why does this building have to be so large anyway?!'

He growls and sits down against the wall, resolving to wait until someone came to find him. He knew the agents who accompanied him here would probably find him. He sits there for a few minutes until he hears a set of footsteps approaching him. He looks up and sees a flag he doesn't recognize. It looks like the Chilian flag, but the blue stripe and the star are longer. He jumps back a little, startled.

"Howdy," The figure says with a wide grin, his eyes shining the telltale yellow of a personification, "you seem a little lost."

Poland scowls. The figure gives a smaller smile before moving to sit on the other side of the hallway.

"Are you one of the countries?" the figure asks.

"You say that as if you're not."

"Well, between you and me. I'm not. At least, not anymore."

Poland looks up more this time and sees the figure offering a welcoming smile. He stares in confusion.

"Are you some kind of state?"

"Hmm... You might have to come with me to find out. I know Dad says not to talk to the countries, but you aren't one of the ones he warns about, so I think you're fine."

Poland stands, his anger completely gone, and is replaced by curiosity. 

"Besides," the figure continues, "I didn't even know countries could come back here. The name's Texas by the way."

"Poland."

"Nice to meet ya!" Texas exclaims, offering a hand. 

When Poland doesn't immediately take it, Texas drops his hand. Poland feels surprised and a little relieved when he didn't have to follow through with getting closer to the mysterious figure. 

"Don't worry about it," Texas says, waving off the attempt, "I know some of y'all don't like contact. Nothing to worry about."

Poland feels himself relax a little, but he scolds himself for it.

Poland trails after Texas, but Texas doesn't seem bothered in the slightest at the lack of conversation. Texas walks through the building as if he had been here hundreds of times before. Eventually, they reach a meeting room with yelling and crashing inside. It doesn't sound violent, but it is loud.

"Are you okay with loud noises?" Texas asks, hand on the doorknob.

Poland nods. Texas opens the door and Poland is hit with a wall of sound. Laughter and shouts of insults ring out in the air.

"Howdy, y'all!" Texas yells.

"Hi, Tex!"

"Hey, Tazzy!"

"Wait," another figure says, a yellow diamond on a faded green background, "who is that? Dad said no guests."

"Well, Poland here isn't one of the countries Dad told us to worry about."

The yellow diamond mutters with an unsure look before they shrug. The people start crowding around him and Poland takes a deep breath, getting ready to wait for them back off when there is a shout.

"HEY! Back up!" one of the taller people shouts, "You're making them uncomfortable!"

The figures back up and give Poland more than enough breathing room with apologies floating in the air.

"Hi!" The tallest of the group says, "I'm California, but you can call me Cali. We're the United States."

"America's states?" Poland asks.

"Yes," the oldest of the group replies, a child of about 7 or 8 in her arms, "America doesn't say much about us to the countries."

Poland nods in agreement and is herded into one of the chairs around the table. He sits back, confused, but seeing them try their best not to make him feel trapped felt refreshing. They make sure not to block the door and they try to give him space, though the younger ones do need some correcting. Poland decides to stay, if only for a few minutes. The polite company is appreciated.

Then, someone sits across from him. He looks up at the person popping cookies into their mouth. The figure swallows before speaking.

"Hi. I'm Kentucky. Want one?"

Poland gives a nervous nod and Kentucky slides a few of the cookies across the table. 

He begins munching on them and smiles. 

'Not a bad group.'

Then someone else walks up. 

"The name's New York," The figure says with a curt wave before leaning over the table.

"*Do not tell the other countries about us,*" New York says in Polish, causing Poland's head to whip up, "*America has been trying to keep us away from the countries. Texas wasn't supposed to bring you here, but now that you know, there isn't much we can do now unless you want to try the memory wiping spell.*"

"*I can keep a secret.*"

New York nods, and Poland sees respect in his eye.

"Getting past Tex is a test of character. You don't got to go off on him," Kentucky says. 

"I was just making sure."

Kentucky shrugs and offers another cookie, which Poland accepts.

Then a little kid runs up to him. He looks over at the star spelled face of the youngest in the group.

"Hi! I'm Alaska. Do you wanna play games with us?" the child says, bouncing in excitement.

Poland couldn't find it in him to refuse. He ignores the calls on his phone and shouts in victory as he laps Arizona and Idaho.

"You're cheating!" Minnesota shouts.

Poland cackles.

Then the door starts opening and Poland looks up to see America walking in.

"Hi kids. How's it going..." America trails off, making eye contact with Poland. 

Poland immediately notices how pale America got and feels almost bad for him. Poland stands up, handing the controller to Utah, who takes it with a cheer. But before he can start, South Carolina steps up beside him.

"Dad! Texas found him in the hallway. Can we keep him? Please?" South Carolina says.

"I-uh..."

"No one will know that they are here," Poland says quietly. 

America's eyes lock on Poland and stay there for a few moments. America sighs.

"Fine, but only if he wants to stay," America relents.

Poland smiles and the states cheer wildly. America smiles and shakes his head. 

"They're looking for you," America says. 

"F*** them," Poland says, "I am not going back in there."

America shrugs. 

"Fair enough."

Poland takes a seat at the table and Alabama hands him a plate with a piece of pie on it. He shovels forkfuls into his mouth while cheering Texas on.

'America never had anything to do with letting them tear me apart,' Poland ponders.

America sits down beside him and Poland nods in acknowledgment.

"You seem to be having fun," America says with a gentle smile.

Poland nods enthusiastically. America sighs before fixing a stern gaze onto Poland. Poland drops his fork and stares back.

"Don't hurt any of them and don't tell anyone," America says, "and maybe you can start coming around for holidays and hanging out with the kids when we're stationed here for meetings."

Poland's eyes light up. 

"Really?" 

"Yes. They need someone else to help keep them on track anyway and you seem to be having fun," America says with a wink.

This makes Poland a lot happier than he had expected. He grins. America smiles widely back. Poland's phone begins ringing near constantly and Poland finally answers, walking out into the hallway to do so.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?"

"I will meet you at the entrance."

"We will see you there, sir."

Poland hangs up and sighs. He walks back into the room and taps America's shoulder. America turns around and flashes him a smile.

"Could you show me back to the main entrance?"

"Of course. Follow me," America says, "Behave yourselves!" he shouts over his shoulder.

When the agents ask where he had been and why America is with him, he simply tells them he had gotten lost after he stormed off and America found him and led him back. 

"Bye Poland!" America calls, waving wildly. 

Poland laughs quietly and waves back. The other countries who are standing around the lobby give him strange looks for the interaction, but Poland waves them off. He masks his grin and walks out quietly with the agents, who escort him to the airport. 

'That was the best meeting I have attended,' Poland thinks, hiding the accompanying smile with his hand, 'I may have to take up America on his offer.'


	9. Vacation (I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a request from users on Wattpad. Enjoy!

America sits back in the uncomfortable chair with a tired frown. 

He had been so caught up with his domestic problems that he hadn't been able to attend the world or UN meetings. America sighs. He was honestly just absolutely exhausted, but he couldn't just leave Russia hanging. 

A bit of guilt spins in his chest. 

Russia had been so understanding and hasn't been pushing it, and America just feels so grateful for it. He had been working tirelessly to make enough to pay for an amazing vacation for them. His head tilts back and forces himself to start looking around again. He hadn't seen Russia in what felt like forever, and his government scandals have kept him from being able to contact Russia at all.

'I hope he remembered to come.'

But the arrival time for the plane comes and goes and though America had seen a few other people with Russian flags, none of them had been Russia himself. America looks down at his phone and doesn't see any notifications. He debates on sending Russia another text, but unlocking the phone only shows him the several unanswered texts he had already sent. 

He sighs and props his head on his hand and sighs sadly. He would've left a few hours ago, but couldn't seem to force himself to get up, so he just sits and sulks.

He sits back and plays on his phone, trying to distract himself from the fact that the sun had set and his phone is almost dead.

He sighs and rubs his eyes.

'Why am I so disappointed?' 

He stands up and holds his head down. He pockets his phone and begins walking away when he hears someone running up from behind him.

"Meri! Wait!"

America spins around to see Russia, looking incredibly disheveled and panting, running at him at full speed. America feels a face-splitting grin take over his face and tears collect in his eyes. America opens his arms and Russia just engulfs him in a bearhug. 

The overwhelming relief fills America's mind and he finds himself laughing.

"You're here," America mutters.

"Yes, I am. I'm sorry. My boss called me into a meeting and wouldn't let me leave until the flight had already taken off," Russia explains quietly, "I had to rush to find the next available flight."

When they separate, America wipes the tears away from his eyes.

"I was afraid you weren't coming," America says with a wide smile.

Russia laughs.

"You think I wouldn't want to see you?" Russia says, "What are we doing?"

"Well, you said you wanted to go to Disney, so..."

"Disney?!" Russia exclaims a large smile. 

America notes how his eyes light up with excitement and smiles widely, trying to memorize the expression.

'Could he be any cuter?'

"Yeah. I know you and your bosses weren't allowed in before, and you wanted to, so I got tickets," America says.

"You didn't have to."

"Yes, I did. I haven't seen you in years and I feel so bad for it," America says, running a hand through his hair, "and, I even got it so we can go after hours and be the only ones there. Come on!"

America drags him along, his giddiness and excitement keeping him wide awake. They run from ride to ride, America dragging Russia along and hopping over the ropes to rush to the coaster cars. Honestly, America hadn't ever felt more alive. 

They ran through the dark, dodging the workers who had agreed to work longer hours for the extra pay. America laughs into the cool night air, and he could've sworn Russia was doing the same. 

The whole night blurs into sugary treats and fireworks from the rollercoaster loops. America decides that though his legs burn and he fights to stay awake, it's worth it. 

Soon, he finds himself seated on a park bench, Russia by his side, just staring up at the stars. America forces his eyes to stay open. 

It's almost midnight, and America wanted to stay here until dawn, but he knew if he isn't careful, he'd fall asleep and stay that way for the remainder of their time. He shakes his head in an attempt to keep himself awake. 

America turns to Russia to ask where else he wanted to go, only to see Russia staring at him with a smile. America feels his face grow warm. Russia reaches his hand up to America's face and America leans in, closing his eyes.

Their lips meet and America almost felt like the fireworks had restarted. His heart pounds in his chest and his stomach fills with butterflies and his magic sparks around him. His senses are overwhelmed with the feelings of love and the taste of powdered sugar.

America pulls back, giggling. He throws his arms around Russia's neck and pulls him back down into another, deeper, kiss. Russia reciprocates immediately. America grins into the kiss before opening his mouth and attempts to get Russia to do the same. Russia does, and America takes the opportunity to explore.

America finally pulls away and lays his head on Russia's shoulder, exhausted. Russia laughs quietly and hugs him by the hips.

"Are you okay?" Russia asks quietly.

"Nothing! I'm fine!" America yelps, pulling away and ignoring the dizziness that came with the movement. 

Russia smiles and shakes his head with an affectionate look.

'I don't want to ruin this.'

Russia stands up and offers America his hand, who takes it graciously. Russia pulls America to his feet and America stumbles. Then, he looks at Russia and gets an idea. He runs at him and grabs his shoulders, hopping onto his back. Russia stumbles slightly before laughing and securing America in place.

"That way!" America cheers, pointing over Russia's shoulder.

America laughs like a child as Russia sprints, wind whips through his hair. He loosely wraps his hands around Russia's neck and grins. The cold night air sends a shiver down his back. He leans over and tucks his face into the back of Russia's neck to hide from the chill. 

America blinks, his eyelids feel so heavy. Russia slows his pace dramatically and America barely registers the change, trying to fight the sleep threatening to take him.

"Meri?"

America snaps out of his daze.

"Yeah?"

"You're quiet. Is something wrong?"

"I'm just tired, Ruski."

"Do you want to go to the hotel?"

"No! Of course not," America protests, "I want you to have a good time and I don't want to be the one to cut is short." 

"It's less fun when you are asleep."

"But we won't be coming back here."

Russia puts America down, and America stares for a moment while Russia turns and takes his shoulders.

"I am here to spend time with you. This is fun, but your company is what makes it better," Russia says sincerely, staring America in his eyes.

America feels his face grow unbearably hot and he looks away, unwittingly smiling like a dork. Then America squeals as Russia effortlessly sweeps him off his feet.

"Let us go back," Russia says, walking toward Magic Kingdom.

America sighs.

"Only if you want to," America mumbles.

"You are tired," Russia replies.

America waits for him to elaborate, but he never does. The calm movements soothe his mind and America's eyes slide shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be other parts, but you might have to wait for them.


	10. Papa Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An idea suggested to me by a friend. Rusame and statehumans. Hope you enjoy.

Russia sits back on the couch in the living room, surrounded by chaos. He smiles. 

America had a private meeting and the states are staying for the holidays and had asked Russia to watch them. Russia had, of course, agreed. He'd grown close to the states, after all, and would do anything for Ame.

He hears the start of an argument in the dining room and stands up to separate it.

"Oklahoma! Give it back!" Arizona shrieks. 

"NO!"

"My teddy bear!" Alaska cries.

Russia walks in and sees Oklahoma standing on the table with a small bear in hand. Arizona is screaming at her, standing on a nearby stool with her hair smoking. Alaska is trying to climb on the table, crying.

"Well, maybe Alaska shouldn't have drawn in my book!" Oklahoma shouts.

"Enough!" Russia shouts.

The three freeze and Alaska sniffles before running forward.

"She stole Miska!" Alaska cries, pointing at Oklahoma.

"Get off the table," Russia demands.

Oklahoma scrambles down and quickly hands the stuffed toy back to Alaska, who hugs it to her chest and scampers off. Russia gives Arizona and Oklahoma steely looks. 

"Why were you screaming?" Russia asks.

"Oklahoma wasn't listening," Arizona says with crossed arms.

"I only took it because Alaska drew in my sketchbook that dad got for me and ruined it!" Oklahoma cries, tears in her eyes.

"Calm down," Russia soothes, "I'm sure you can fix it or ask your father for a new one. I will talk to Alaska."

"Sorry, Papa," Oklahoma mutters before her head whips up, fear in her eyes, and her face turns pink. She lowers her gaze.

Russia stares at where she had been, her words repeating in his mind.

'"Sorry, Papa."'

'"Papa"'

Russia feels his face burn and he covers it with his hands. His mind blue screens. 

'Do they see me as a father figure??'

"...Russ?" Oklahoma asks experimentally,

"YORK!" Arizona shouts, "Oklahoma broke Russia!"

New York walks in and Russia's head snaps up, his head swimming with questions. 

'Do they see me as a father?'

'Does America know?'

'How many of them do?'

"What the f*** just happened?"

"I may have called him 'Papa' by accident," Oklahoma admits, looking away and rubbing her arm.

New York scoffs before turning to look at Russia with a smirk.

"Jersey's going to love this," New York says before walking out and calling over his shoulder, "also, Dad's pulling up. He'll help."

~

Russia knocks on the door. The upcoming meeting would be the next day and America offered to house him, though warned him that the states are staying for the holidays. He tugs the extra luggage in behind him with a wide smile. 

"Hi, Papa!"

"Dad! Papa's here!"

Russia blushes. 

'I don't think I will get used to that.'

"Hi!" America exclaims, poking his head out from the kitchen.

Russia grins.

"Join me once you get your luggage up to your room. I'm sure the states would love to help," America calls before disappearing back behind the doorway.

Russia smiles and the states insist on helping bring the stuff upstairs. Russia scoops up a happily squealing Alaska and follows them up to make sure nothing got lost in the hallway and smiles.

Russia manages to get everything into his room with the states none the wiser of the gifts he'd brought with him. He smiles and walks back downstairs, Alaska in his arms. He walks into the kitchen to see America and Georgia coaching some of the younger states with cutting out sugar cookies and Louisiana mans the stove. 

Alaska squirms out of his grip to go help and Russia walks up behind America, wrapping his arms around America's waist.

"Hello," Russia says.

America laughs and turns around, pecking him.

"Hey babe," America says, "Wanna help with the sugar cookies?"

Russia gives a shrug and sits down on the bench with the states, helping cut little snowflakes from the dough. The night is exciting, and the states bounce around the living room and play Christmas music loudly from the TV speakers. Russia smiles.

'What a place to be.'

He'd also be lying if he had said he didn't love the pajamas that he'd gotten.

"Christmas Eve tradition," America had said. 

Russia wasn't about to argue with him. After the states are sent upstairs, Russia and America gather gifts and set them up under the tree. Though he could've sworn that he saw a few of them with his name on them clearly not written or wrapped by America, but he decides against asking any questions. 

The next morning comes quickly and Russia finds his lap full of boxes and wrapping paper.

Opening the first one, he finds a jacket reading "Papa Bear" across a patch on the front. He decides it's his new favorite jacket.

~

Russia decides he really should've been more careful with his wardrobe choice when visiting his family. He had worn the jacket, forgetting what it actually said, and his siblings didn't wait to pounce on him for it.

"Papa Bear?! I-" Kasakstan exclaims, laughing into his hands.

"I think you stole my name," Soviet teases.

Ukraine just laughs and points. Russia tries his best to hide his reddening face. 

"Well, who are you looking after? Do I have a niece or nephew?" Belarus asks.

"More like 50," Russia mumbles, looking away.

His family stops talking and he turns to see them staring at him with jaws dropped. 

"What?" Russia asks innocently.

"50 children aND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?!" Soviet exclaims.

~

"Is this really how we want to introduce our engagement? At the world meeting?" Russia asks, throwing on the, now, well-worn jacket.

"Yes! It would also let us introduce the states too. I know some of them have been dying to meet the countries."

"We'll have to watch Massachusetts."

"Yeah. But the rest of them will just be coming along for the show," America says, hands on his hips. 

Russia sighs and shakes his head, but decides not to argue. 

"Besides, Cali's already gotten all of the kids to play along," America says, pulling on a sweatshirt with "Mama Bear" written in black text across the front, "no backing out now. Does your family know?"

"No, they don't know the whole story. Though I believe my father has already put it together."

"Yeah, the commie's known about the states since West talked to him during the Cold War. That kid is gonna give me a heart attack one day, I swear."

Russia hums in understanding and helps put a hairband in Alaska's hair, the fuzzy bear ears standing up adorably. Russia smiles.

'The kids agreed, and it will make America happy. I can deal with it.'

They arrive just as the meeting is starting and walk in with the kids trailing behind them. Russia notes that New York really doesn't seem too pleased with his arrangement, but most of the other kids are trading smiles and shushing the giggling of the siblings around them.

America takes Russia's hand with a smile.

"You ready?" America asks.

Russia nods. 

"Make sure you guys stay out of sight until we open the door again, okay?" America asks over his shoulder.

The states nod in agreement and stand against the walls to avoid being seen when the door is opened.

America nods and pushes open the door. The nations who had been talking in the room all go quiet and stare at America. 

"America, is this a bloody joke?" UK asks, despite England's protests.

America looks UK dead in the eye before lifting up their intertwined hands, a smirk on his face. 

"What's with the bear thing?" France asks, sounding mildly curious.

"It's the message," America says with a smirk, reaching back for the doors, "Papa bear is my partner and you don't mess with Mama bear's cubs."

America shoves the doors open and the states come streaming in, laughing and cheering. UN stares on with absolute disbelief. Most of the other countries do the same. Canada and Australia just laugh. New Zeland looks dumbfounded.

"What? They wanted to meet you and Russ and I got together, so we figured we'd kill two birds with one stone and just do it all at once," America says loudly, drowning out the sea of little voices.

"HAH!" Texas laughs, "I'm not dead, fuckers!"

America lets go of Russia's hand and pulls Texas by the ear to the back of the room, scolding him the entire way. Russia just smiles.

'I love him.'


	11. Just Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suggestion from Anon on Tumblr

Russia decides that this meeting is beyond boring, and the fact that here he couldn’t just hug America just made it worse. He sighs and props his head up on his hand.

Suddenly, his phone vibrates. He pulls it out of his pocket and sees a message from “Stars”.

“Wanna come w/me to go say hi to the states?”

Russia smiles.

“Yes,” Russia replies. 

Russia pockets his phone quickly and smothers the smile. He lets his resting face scare off anyone who would try to stop him as he left.

As soon as he gets out the door, he grabs America into a bearhug. America laughs.

“What? Are you gonna carry me there?”

Russia smirks and heaves America up bridal style. America yelps and latches onto Russia, wrapping his arms around Russia’s neck.

“I was joking!” America exclaims as Russia starts walking down the twisting hallways.

Russia decides to ignore him and begins to pick up his pace. America laughs as Russia begins sprinting, drifting around corners and dodging guards and other personnel while rocketing through the building.

He slides to a stop in front of the conference room the states were using. Russia can hear loud music from inside shaking the door. America squirms away and begins bouncing in excitement. Russia feels his heart melt at the display.

America opens the door and pop music hits Russia. America grabs his hand and pulls him inside. The door slams behind them.

The booming music makes it feel like a nightclub and Russia looks to the front of the room to see a group of 5 of the states dancing, staring up at the large television mounted to the wall.

“Hi, Russia!” Alaska calls from below.

Russia looks down and gives a friendly smile. Alaska grins before running off to find Hawaii. America does a little happy dance, watching the show, and Russia restrains himself from “aww” ing at it.

Then, America turned to him.

“Wanna dance with me?” America asks gleefully.

Russia resigns to the fact that he won’t be able to bring himself to say no. Instead, he pulls out his flask and takes a swig of liquid courage before agreeing. America cheers before grabbing his hand and they weave through the states to the front.

New York and California have the highest scores on the screen, and California has the lead. The other three players, Delaware, Utah, and Wyoming seem to be trying to catch up, and the other states cheer on the players.

The on-screen players drop to the ground, and California stumbles. New York executes the move effortlessly and finishes on his feet with his hands in the air.

The states cheer.

“You cheated,” California says halfheartedly, punching New York in the shoulder.

New York laughs.

“Oh never,” he replies with a smirk.

“Oh. Hi Dad,” New York says with a wave, finally spotting them.

“Hey Yorkie. You mind if the two of us take a turn?”

“No problem Boss,” New York replies, tossing a remote to America.

America catches it easily and Wyoming hands one to Russia.

“But I thought I was going to go next,” Alaska mumbles, looking down.

America and Russia make eye contact and America gives him a questioning look. Russia gives a shrug. America walks over and scoops Alaska into a hug before spinning her into the center of the room.

“Are you ready to dance with the adults?” America asks.

Alaska nods enthusiastically and America hands over his controller before grabbing a third.

“You ready?” America asks.

Russia nods and Alaska prances around, cheering. Russia was honestly hoping to get away with not moving much as the game starts, deciding to let Alaska win. However, Alaska is a much better dancer than he had been expecting and America gives a disapproving look at his inactivity.

Russia scowls but begins actually trying to match the player on the screen, but it still mindful of the scores, trying to make sure that Alaska still comes out on top. Alaska laughs loudly and America spins.

When the music number ends, Russia is trying to catch his breath and Alaska shouts gleefully.

“I WON!” Alaska cheers.

America smiles and gives Russia a proud grin. Russia smiles back.

‘This is much more fun than any world meeting could be.’


	12. Lone Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW Alcohol and implied nsfw

Texas runs as fast as his legs can carry him, trying desperately to get away, to escape and leave behind the mess he made.

He'd just joined them, just joined a new family, and yet it's already ruined.

He scrubs the tears away with a scowl, hopping onto his horse and kicking. The horse whines and bucks before speeding off toward the sunset.

'Just like those movies.' 

'I can't stay here. Not anymore.'

He growls and his eyes burn.

'Why do I have to be so stupid!'

He snarls and violently scrubs away at his face, covering it and trying to ignore the shaking in his breath.

'Can't keep anything nice.'

Flashes of images of America screaming, Dixie yelling, and so much fucking blood.

'I didn't mean to.'

He could almost imagine voices calling for him behind the whipping wind filling his ears. He clutches his hat and clenches his teeth. 

The states he had taken to thinking of as siblings putting themselves between him and their father.

Texas bites his knuckle and blinks hard.

Even Alaska.

'My chest hurts.'

He scowls, trying to turn it to anger, but can't find it in himself to be angry at anyone but himself. 

Eventually, the horse's movement slows to a trot and Texas no longer finds comfort in the whipping winds. A white knuckle grip encircles the reins and he scrubs at his face with his hands. He looks down only to realize that he hadn't brought anything but the saddle and the clothes on his back. 

He scowls and sniffs. He pulls the horse to a stop and gets off. He ties the reins to the hook on the saddle and the horse whines.

"Go home, boy," Texas says, gently patting the horse's flank, "I didn't bring the stuff to take care of ya."

The horse begins to trot home, and Texas watches in the fading daylight before he turns back around and trudges through the sandy, desert grounds. 

When he reaches a city, it's already late into the night. 

He walks into the closest bar he spots, his main focus is to drown out the emotions storming his thoughts. He parties and drinks and the whole rest of the night blurs into bright flashes of light mixed with bliss and guilt.

He wakes up the next morning, a scream of terror on the tip of his tongue. The sun burns his eyes. 

He looks around and finds his clothes scattered in a room he didn't remember walking into, to his left a woman, and his right a man, both as bare as he. 

Texas feels his dignity leave him as he carefully crawls over the couple, collecting his things and leaving, giving the room one last head nod goodbye before closing the door behind him. 

He continues his aimless wandering, not ever wanting to go home, but his thoughts begin to swirl. 

He only stops to spend his nights at bars, in blurs of alcohol, and leaving before his partners wake up. He loses count of the days he'd been gone.

'How selfish am I? Escaping like that? Into booze and sex?'

Soon, he finds himself sitting against a tire hung on a barbed wire fence, staring out at the vast plains that lay ahead. He watches the sunset, and his heart gets heavier the more time his thoughts occupy him.

'Why did they all move like that? Did they always expect me to lash out?'

His mind is already set on the answer, but he shoves it away, his face stone cold.

"Hey! Boy!" Someone calls from behind him. 

Texas jumps in surprise. He turns to see an old man walking toward him on a cane.

"What are you doing out here? Them snakes like to burrow there."

Texas carefully gets up.

"Come 'ere," the old man demands, and Texas tilts his head down, obscuring his face.

"Yes, sir," Texas mumbles.

"You're comin' with me and gettin' inside. There's supposed t' be a tornado coming soon and you don't wanna be caught in one of them out here."

Texas solemnly nods and follows the man back to an old looking farmhouse, his hands at his sides and quiet.

"Take off them there shoes before you step inside," the geezer says, shaking his cane at Texas' feet.

"Yes sir," Texas mumbles, kicking off his shoes.

"So, son, what are you doing all the way out here?"

Texas looks away. 

"What are you running away from?"

"...I made a mistake."

"You can't run from shame."

"..."

"I'm sure your folks are looking for you."

Texas looks away.

"Now call your folks. I'm sure they're worried sick."

Texas stares at the landline phone the man gestures to. New Mexico's number loops in his mind. He bites his lip.

'Maybe she won't pick up.'

His heart pounds in his chest.

He slowly dials the number and holds the phone to his ear. The dial tone fills his head until a tired voice answers. Hoping in the back of his she won't pick up.

"Hello?" New Mexico's voice ring through, sounding unbelievably tired.

Texas feels his heart stop.

"Is there anyone there?"

"Mexi?" Texas mumbles.

"Texas!?!" New Mexico shrieks, "Oh thank God! Are you okay? Where are you?"

"Uhm... sir?" Texas asks off the phone, handing the phone to the old man. 

Texas sits back on the couch, just shaking his head. 

Eventually, the old man hangs up the phone and sits in the lazy-boy chair on the opposite side of the room.

"You certainly got good folks," the man comments.

Texas looks away. 

"You shouldn't be running away from 'em. Your sister says she'll be here soon."

Texas bites his lip and waits, trying not to catastrophize. But despite his efforts, images of screaming and anger flash in his mind and the worst-case scenarios play on repeat.

Then there is a furious knock on the door. The old man smirks and stands, opening the door. He hears someone come crashing in and he sees a flurry of movement before someone hugs him, tight.

"You're okay! You're okay. Oh thank God," New Mexico says into his shoulder, seeming to dismiss the grime that covered his clothes and the grease in his hair.

Texas couldn't help himself when he latches onto her. Tears well in his eyes and a lump grows in his throat. 

New Mexico pulls back and scowls, wiping tears off her face before slapping him. Texas takes it without complaint.

"Why the fuck did you do that?!" she shrieks, scowling, and tears stream down her face, "Running away like that and sending Austin back to the house alone?! You fucking dumbass!"

Then she pulls him back into a tight hug, and Texas feels his walls break. His shoulders shake and he sobs. he grabs the back of her garb and holds it as if she's about to disappear.

He leans into New Mexico's shoulder, his breath choked by sobs.

New Mexico rubs small circles on his back until he calms a little.

"Where have you been?" New Mexico asks quietly.

"Just walking," Texas mumbles.

New Mexico scoffs and shakes her head in disbelief.

"You sent Dad into a full panic. Hell, even York and Cali are looking for you."

Texas just feels his emotions wrack through his body, shaking. 

New Mexico pulls away and stands in front of him, digging through her pockets and pulling out her phone.

"Hey, Apple! Yes, this is actually important. I'm with Texas right now... yeah..."

Texas finds himself buried in guilt to pay much attention to the rest of the conversation.

Eventually, New Mexico hangs up.

"Lulu and Peaches are gonna come and get you. I think they got Bama and Sippi with 'em, but they're the closest right now, and I got to go back home. But I ain't leaving until I know you're with them." 

Texas nods mutely and New Mexico sighs.

"You know Dad's not even mad, right?"

Texas' head whips up to face her. He stares in disbelief when she gave an airy laugh.

"He just wants to make sure you're okay."

Texas buries his face into his hands

New Mexico sighs and takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch.

"I ain't never seen two people with such clear flags," the old man comments and Texas stiffens, "normally something's gotta be off. Who are you?"

Texas tenses and New Mexico sighs.

"I suppose I owe you an apology. But most do not know who we are, but I owe you an explanation," New Mexico says, standing and tipping her hat before offering a hand, "My name is New Mexico, and that there is my brother, Texas."

'Brother? Does she still think of me like that? I thought I would be no one.'

"The states?" the man asks.

"Yes," New Mexico agrees with a nod, "we represent the populations. Our flags are the official flags of our states, that's why they look like replicas."

The man nods and looks at Texas, respect shining in his eyes. Texas can't meet his eyes.

They wait quietly until there is another knock. The old man invites them in and Texas finds himself under a near crushing weight.

"Texas!" Alabama cheers.

Mississippi and Alabama pile on top of him and laugh in relief.

Texas laughs quietly and hugs them back. 

"Well, are y'all gonna come home with us?" Georgia asks. 

"Yeah. Come on Tex, let's go," Mississippi says, pulling Texas to his feet.

Texas looks away, but can't bring himself to argue.


	13. Protective(Rusame)

BANG

America flinches and back peddles a little. His back hits a cold, slimy back wall.

"What? You don't want to fight, huh? Maybe American tourists shouldn't be going around here." 

"I am not a tourist," America spits before he can stop himself. 

Another man laughs. 

"Well, you are stupid like one and have that stupid flag. All you Americans are so stupid!"

'Well, I know that already.'

"Why are you here?" America demands.

"We've found our new friend."

America really didn't like that tone. 

'God damn it. I am stupid.'

'I shouldn't have come down here.'

America tries to back toward the opening at the end of the ally, only to be shoved back. He grunts as he fell to the ground. America forces himself back to his feet, reaching for his holster, only to realize it had been left back in his main home. 

'Shit.'

Then, there are hands all over him, as the people around him and grab at his clothes, taking whatever they deemed valuable. America tries to fight against them, using his strength, but even then, he's completely outnumbered, and they held blades to his throat. 

His phone and wallet are yanked away and a hard kick knocks the breath out of him.

He tried to scream but finds himself too breathless to say anything at all. 

He takes a hard kick to the face and another man stomps on his throat. He gurgles and forces the man off, only to be further restrained. 

He cries out hoarsely.

Suddenly, someone shouts angrily from the entrance to the ally. America flinches a little.

'Great, not another person.'

His assailants throw him into the side of a dumpster and the world spins. America squints and he sees people go flying, hitting the stone walls around him. America holds his bloody forehead and cracked nose and looks up to see a seething Russia.

Russia looms over the leader of the group, fists clench, and teeth bared.

"You don't touch him," Russia snarls.

"Russ?" America weakly calls out. 

Russia punches the leader in the side of the head and takes back America's phone. Then Russia turns around, and his face immediately turns soft and concerned.

"Are you okay?" Russia asks quietly, gently examining him.

"Yeah. Just kinda hurts. Can you help me up?"

Russia nods and carefully helps America to his feet. America grabs at his stomach.

"Are you missing anything else?" Russia asks.

America nods, "They took my wallet."

Russia nods and turns. His face contorts into a nasty grimace and he roughs up the remaining attackers, demanding for it. America smiles and leans against the wall, swaying a little, feeling dizzy.

Eventually, Russia returns to America's side.

"I told you I should come with you," Russia scolds lightly.

"I know. I thought I'd be fine," America mumbles.

Russia scoffs. 

America laughs a little in relief, but the movement sends pain arcing through his torso. He hunches over with a pained gasp.

"America?" Russia asks, "Stars?!"

Then America feels gentle, calloused hands try to help him up.

"Are you okay? What's wrong? What hurts?" Russia asks frantically. 

"I'm just bruised up. I'll be okay," America insists, trying to wave off Russia's hands.

Russia sputters rebuttals. 

America offers a bloody smile that turns to a grimace. He groans. Then he felt Russia hoist him up. 

"Hey! Put me down!" America protests, "I'm fine!"

"No," Russia says plainly.

"But I-"

"No. You're hurt."

"I'm an adult. I can walk."

"I don't care."

America pouts and tries to fight, but finds that it might be a painful option. He grimaces and ultimately allows Russia to bring him to Russia's hotel room. 

Russia gently sits him down and doted on him, his mannerisms a staggering contrast to the aggression he had radiated toward the men in the alley.

"Aren't you supposed to be in a meeting?" America asks.

"This is more important."

"But-"

"I will protect you," Russia says sternly, "I don't want you to get hurt." 

"I can protect myself," America defends.

Russia gives him a skeptical look, and America averts his eyes, his face growing hot.

"Most of the time," America mumbles. 

Russia shakes his head with a fond, but exasperated expression. 

"Please don't go anywhere like that without me, okay?" Russia suggests, worry in his eyes.

America averts his eyes.

"Fine," America says, crossing his arms, his face hot.

Russia smiles softly and pecks his cheek. 

'How did I end up with someone like that?' America wonders, admiring Russia, who is running around trying to find something. 

Eventually, Russia resurfaces with a candy bar with a grin. Then he turns to America and hands it over with a bashful grin.

America takes it gratefully.

"I was going to give it to you on our date tonight," Russia says, rubbing the back of his neck, "but you might like it more now."

America hums.

"Thank you," America chirps. 

Russia looks away, blushing bright red, a silly grin on his face. America giggles. 

'This is definitely better than any meeting could have been.'

"I'm sorry," Russia says, looking uncomfortable but determined, "I have to fix your nose."

"Go ahead," America says, readying himself for the pain. 

"One....two.....three," Russia says, snapping it back into place.

America winces and feels the bridge of his nose carefully.

"Are you okay?" Russia asks.

America nods and smiles, and snacks on the candy bar and wiping the blood away. Russia looks on with a smile.


	14. Lynchpin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I took angst as a challenge. Let me know how I did. Also, character death alcohol trigger warnings.

Texas had been cleaning his rifle when a shiver runs down his spine and the power of a country floods his system. It feels familiar but so wrong.

He sits bolt upright and drops the gun.

"No..." Texas mutters, his eyes wide.

Texas hops up from his seat, tripping over himself to get back inside and to the kitchen counter, where his phone is charging. He grabs it and tries to call New York, only to get his voice mail. He leaves a few choice words when he hears his computer making noise.

Skype begins to ring. 

Falling back into his office chair, Texas opens the meeting to his siblings scrambling and blabbering and scared. And honestly, he is too.

And the pure panic on Virginia's and Delaware's faces does nothing to soothe the terror etching itself into his chest.

"York?" Texas says, his voice quiet, "what's going on?"

"I don't know!" New York shouts, hands on the sides of his head, "Dad isn't picking up his phone, and neither is Russia. Canada is just as concerned as we are, but Russia's states don't think anything is going on!"

Texas swallows. Dread sinks his stomach into his feet.

"And all of us feel weird and Cali isn't answering," Delaware says, his expression appearing calm, but his tone shaky.

"I think I know why," Texas mumbles, looking away.

"Well?" New York barks, "out with it!"

"It feels like I'm a country again!" Texas shouts, shooting to his feet, "And it ain't right! Cuz I'm supposed to be a state! Cali was a country too! I think she's probably panicked because this ain't supposed to happen!"

An unnatural hush falls over the states and they stare at Texas in shock. Texas heaves, tears gathering his eyes.

"Shit!" Massachusetts mutters, breaking the silence.

"Oh fuck! OH FUCK!" New Jersey shouts, and he begins pacing around the room.

New York sits frozen in his seat, his eyes unfocused.

"HEY!" Louisiana shouts, hitting her desk, "ALL Y'ALL! BE QUIET!"

They fall silent before a little voice pipes up.

"Is Daddy okay?" Alaska asks, sniffling.

Louisiana flinches before answering, "Yeah, Daddy's okay, sweet cheeks. Now, York, where was Dad supposed to be today?"

'Lu, you are a bad lier.'

"I-" New Tork is cut off by his phone, "hold on. It's Russia."

'Oh thank God. Maybe he knows what happened.'

But Texas watches as New York's face falls into one of despair and then indescribable anger.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S GONE!?" New York roars, holding the phone in front of his face, close enough to the computer to hear the desperate voice on the other side.

Texas feels his heart freeze in his chest and his breath stutters to a stop.

"NO! SORRY ISN'T FUCKING GOOD ENOUGH YOU MOTHER FUCKING BASTARD! WHERE THE FUCK IS MY FATHER?!"

New York slams his phone into the desk with a cry of despair and Texas couldn't blame him. He felt frozen, and his emotions begin to rage. He swallows back his cries and steels over his expression.

'I will not grieve. Not here. Not now.'

"Massachusetts?" Wyoming asks gruffly, wiping at his eyes, "Can you teleport us to York's house?"

Massachusetts nods, and the world goes green before fading to reveal a messy apartment with New York trashing everything he can touch. Throwing desks and chairs, cracking windows, and screaming. Texas grabs New York, and with New Jersey's help, they wrestle their rabid brother away from the build-in shelf before he rips it out of the wall.

"NEW YORK!" Texas snaps, "For heaven's sake, STOP!"

New York snarls.

"And what should I do instead!?"

"We shouldn't be attacking each other!" Montana exclaims, her hands in the air, and grief audible in her tone.

"Yeah. We're gonna find the mother fucker who did this," North Carolina says darkly, cracking her knuckles.

~

They burst into the bar that Russia's phone call had lead them to, expecting to interrogate the bartender for information on Russia, only to see a familiar hat at the bar. Russia sits on one of the bar stools, surrounded by empty bottles and shot glasses, his face on the table, and his shoulders shaking. 

Delaware and Virginia share a glance before Delaware walks forward and Virginia leads the others to the alleyway behind the bar. Once Delaware walks up to Russia, the bartender chimes in.

"Poor guy," the man comments, pity in his voice, "downing it faster than I can give it to him."

Delawares heart sinks. Russia's head pokes up, and Delaware feels relieved that he isn't dead from alcohol poisoning from the empty bottles around him.

"Another one," Russia slurs, his words mixing, and his accent makes it nearly unintelligible.

"I think I'm gonna have to cut you off there, boss."

Russia staggers to his feet and begins cursing at the bartender in what Delaware assumes is Russian. Then he turns around and begins to stumble away, half leaning against the walls in his attempt to leave. 

A pathetic sight if Delaware had ever seen one, but he'd also be lying if he had said he wasn't planning to do the exact same thing as soon as he got the chance.

Delaware walks in front of Russia, getting ready to help when Russia stares at him and gasps.

"Delaware?" Russia slurs, a of confusion turns to one of guilt.

Then, Russia muttered something Delaware doesn't understand before trying to go around him.

"Wait," Delaware says, blocking Russia's path, "we need to talk."

"I need more alcohol," Russia replies, his tone empty.

"You're barely coherent!" Delaware yells, throwing his hands in the air, "if anyone needs it, it's ME and my fucking siblings. Now come on, we're gonna have some words with you outside."

Russia stares at him for a second, and his expressions seem to sober up a little. The pain in his eyes almost makes Delaware take a step back. It looked almost as deep as his own heartache, and he almost broke right there. He can barely keep himself from collapsing and bawling right there on the scummy bar floor. 

It must have shown on his face because Russia looks away for a second before wrapping him up in a tight bear hug. And Delaware feels himself crack. 

'I have to stay strong for my siblings,' Delaware scolds himself, 'I can't be crying.'

Even still, he sobs hard enough to shake his whole body, clinging to Russia like a shipwreck victim clinging to the wreckage to stay afloat.

"He can't be gone," Delaware finds himself saying, his voice cracking and filled with desperation, "he can't be."

"I'm so sorry," Russia slurs in a shaky, quiet tone.

"Why would you let that happen?!" Delaware cries, pulling back and punching Russia in the chest hard enough to knock the breath out of him. 

"I couldn't save him," Russia says quietly, wheezing, tears in his eyes, "I tried. I couldn't. I'm so sorry."

Delaware glares at him before glancing away and wiping the tears off his face.

"You're gonna have to explain that to everyone else too," Delaware says, walking toward the exit.

Delaware opens the door and looks behind him, only to see Russia staring at something on his phone, swaying dangerously.

"Russia," Delaware snaps. 

Russia's eyes shoot up to meet his, and the tears are streaming down his face. Delaware rolls his eyes. 

'I lost my god damn Dad. You lost a boyfriend,' Delaware thinks bitterly, snarling, 'stop with the tears and tell all of us what happened to our father.'


	15. Bottles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol and vomit tw

Russia downs another bottle. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't stop. The bottle falls and he gasps before returning it to his mouth.

He tries desperately to quell the hurt and guilt that chokes him. 

'Why didn't I push harder?'

He shuts his tear-filled eyes. His throat burns.

'I knew something was wrong.'

He holds the empty bottle in a limp arm and tries to stand. 

'I could've done something.'

He sways dangerously and slams into a wall, watching the world spin.

'I could've saved him.'

His vision goes red and the bottle hits the wall with an ear-shattering crash.

'I didn't.'

He can't stop the tears rolling down his face.

'Stars was dying.'

He can't stop the sobs shaking his frame.

'And I didn't do anything.'

He can't stop the cries that escape his mouth.

'He crumbled apart.'

His heart rips itself in two and he struggles into the kitchen.

'Why wouldn't I put it together?'

He reaches for another bottle and rips it open.

'It was all there.'

His throat burns from the liquor.

'I didn't try hard enough to help.'

His stomach churns.

'I watched him die.'

The bottle clatters to the counter. Russia tries to swallow back the burning creeping up his throat.

'He's gone.'

Russia can't stop the tears and vomit from falling into the kitchen sink. 

'And now-'

It's so dark.

'The ones he wants me to watch-'

He gasps before his stomach spasms, expelling more of the toxic drink from his system.

'The ones he asked me to look after-'

He leans over the sink, heaving. Tears trace lines down his cheeks.

'Hate me too.'

His chest burns.

"America," He slurs to the empty air of the darkness, "what am I supposed to do?"


	16. Slow Mornings(Rusame)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff  
> Also-  
> Russia and America are staying in one of America's apartments in DC.

Russia wakes up slowly, his consciousness rising to the sunlight on his eyelids. His surroundings are quiet save America's soft breathing. Russia smiles and kisses America's face. America grumbles a little and cuddles into Russia's chest. 

Russia smiles and hugs America to him. America hums and hugs him back. Russia closes his eyes and soaks in the warmth. The blankets are soft and America's hands hug him from under his shirt and Russia melts into the blankets. 

Russia rubs America's back and the sides of his chest. Russia couldn't get enough of the bliss that fills his mind with the contact.

America mumbles something before taking a deep breath and leans into Russia's chest, pulling them together and curling his calls around Russia's thighs and Russia closes his eyes with a sigh.

He opens his eyes again and finds himself staring into America's eyes. America gives him a small smile and Russia feels his whole being go warm. Happiness fills his chest and he smiles back.

"Hey," America says softly.

Russia smiles sweetly, tangling one of his hands into America's hair. 

"The quiet is nice," America comments, closing his eyes, "don't get it too often."

Russia laughs quietly, just trying to soak in the moment.

"Unfortunately, I'm hungry," America says bluntly.

Russia bursts into giggles and America pouts.

"Aww," Russia coos.

Russia gently puts his fingers under America's chin and tilts his face up. America's pout stays on his face and Russia smiles.

"Very cute," Russia mumbles.

America puffs up his cheeks and his pout morphs into a smile. America giggles and Russia leans down for a kiss. America tilts his head up and their lips meet for a soft kiss. Russia feels his heart flutter. America's hands find their way to Russia's chest and Russia smiles.

America pulls away and smiles up at him with hearts in his eyes, and Russia feels his face grow warm.

Then America's stomach grumbles and America's face goes red. Russia laughs. 

Russia sits up and stretches and America stretches out on the bed.

America walks into the kitchen and Russia walks in behind him. Russia hugs America around the waist and America laughs.

"Rue-rue, I'm trying to cook."

Russia grumbles.

"Could you go find the radio?" America asks, turning on the stained electric stove.

"Radio?"

"Yeah. I've got one around here somewhere."

Russia crinkles his nose and pulls away, kissing America's ear before he leaves. America giggles and playfully swats at him. Russia huffs and turns around. He begins digging through cabinets and eventually pulls out a small radio.

Russia sets it up and it begins playing peppy music. America laughs and begins dancing in place, playfully spinning a spatula and swinging his hips. Russia smiles and leans against the counter with the radio. America smiles brightly and scoops something into a pan, throwing in banana pieces and chocolate chips. America wipes his hands off onto a napkin and walks up to Russia.

America takes Russia's hands and laces his fingers through Russia's. Russia looks up, a little confused, and America smirks before pulling him into the kitchen. Russia laughs a little and America swings him around. 

America pulls his arms and Russia leans over a little. America dances around with him and Russia dances around with him, smiling. They spin and Russia grins. America pulls his arms to rock his shoulders and laughs gleefully. 

America spins Russia around and Russia stumbles into the counter, giggling. 

Russia turns around and sees America flipping pancakes in the pan and smiling.

The kitchen smells sweet, like chocolate and bananas.


	17. Angry Hug

Just a prompt from Tumblr:

~

Texas scowls. He didn't what exactly had set him off, but either way, his fists clench and he stomps to his shared bedroom. He slams the door and falls back onto his bunk. He sighs and tries to calm himself down.

'I don't want to hurt anyone,' he reminds himself.

He glares at the floor when a knock rings out against the bedroom door.

Texas groans.

"Yeah?" Texas calls.

"Can I come in?" America says from outside the door.

"Go ahead," Texas replies, falling back on his bed, leaning against his hat.

America opens the door and closes it behind him.

"Hey Tex," America says, but the annoyance in his tone causes Texas to flinch.

"I'm sorry Dad," Texas rushes out, sitting up, "I didn't mean to interrupt or nothing!"

America sighs and sits beside him.

"Kiddo, I'm not mad at you," America soothes, his eyes tired, "I've just been at meetings for most of today."

Texas looks away, and his fists clench. He knew the feeling.

"So," America says, "I heard you were slamming doors and yelling. What's going on?"

Texas glances up before his eyes lock on the door.

"Everything's goin' wrong and I can't seem to catch a break," Texas exclaims, throwing his hands in the air, "And I'm tryin' to make sure I don't do nothin' stupid."

America laughs quietly.

"Well, I definitely appreciate it," America says with a gentle smile, poking Texas' shoulder playfully.

Texas scowls and crosses his arms, more out of a show of annoyance than actual anger. Then America opens his arms.

"Come 'ere, kiddo. You look like you need it."

"I'm not a little kid," Texas protests quietly.

America just shakes his head with an exasperated look. Texas looks up at his father waiting, open arms, and wants in.

'There isn't anyone here.'

Texas sighs and looks down, but leans over and hugs America tightly. America hugs him right back and cradles his head like one would with an infant.

Texas pulls away after a moment, and takes a deep breath, feeling a lot calmer than he had first entered the room. His shoulders relax and his hands lay in his lap with their palms facing the ceiling. He sighs and smiles at America.

"Thanks, Dad."

"Hey, I'm here for a reason," America says with a shrug and a smile.

Texas chuckles and stands up.

"Are you gonna be okay?" America asks, pulling himself up by the bedframe.

"Yeah, I'll be okay," Texas says with a calm smile.

Then, America pulls out his phone and gets a panicked look on his face. Texas looks on, confused.

"Dad?"

"SHIT! I'm gonna be late for the meeting with the cabinet!" America exclaims, jumping to his feet.

Texas laughs as America rushes out, leaving the bedroom door wide open.

"Good luck!" Texas yells down the hall, giving an exaggerated wave at the annoyed look America gives him.


	18. (Rusame) Careful

Russia lays his head down on the side of the bed, listening to America's breathing and trying to stay sane. The states had been in and out of the room, though Russia pays them no mind.

Russia can’t shake off the dread in his stomach. The bandages around America’s torso are a stark contrast to the bruised skin underneath. 

He carefully takes America’s hand and wraps it in his own. 

It’s warm. 

When fingers intertwine with Russia’s, Russia's eyes shoot up to America’s face. America is looking around with a confused expression. Russia feels a rush of relief and tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

“Hi,” Russia says quietly. 

America’s eyes fly over and their eyes meet. Recognition shines in them, and that recognition shifts to love and curiosity with an undertone of pain. Russia beams.

“Russ?” America asks hoarsely.

“You’re awake,” Russia mumbles, closing eyes to stop the tears, “I was so worried.”

America smiles gently before flinching. The pain in his face makes Russia’s heart squeeze and he couldn’t help himself. 

Russia stands up a little and gathers America into a loose hug. Russia fights the instinct to cling to him in case something else happens.

America wraps his arms around Russia, and Russia feels himself crack. Tears flow down his face.

“I thought I lost you,” Russia mumbles.

“I’m here,” America promises.

Russia holds America tenderly, trying his best not to aggravate any of America’s other injuries.

“Can you lay me back down?”

Russia doesn’t have to be told twice, and he gently Lays America back down. America gives him a grateful smile that morphs into a grimace.

“I’ll be okay,” America says reassuringly, “can you go get the kids?”


	19. Redneck Engineering

Normally, America wouldn’t get involved in the kids’ shenanigans. He had several stacks of paperwork sitting in front of him and he sighs. He knew that some of the southern kids are visiting, but they can handle themselves.

Raucous laughter fills the home and America flinches.

Most of the time.

He hears running footsteps and suspicious giggling.

He hears North and South Carolina laughing and talking about finding “more tape”

America sighs and rubs his face, dropping the pen and paper. He opens the door and hears people laughing in the living room and Texas protests.

“Get me down!”

This is followed by Alabama and Mississippi laughing and Louisiana telling him “you shouldn’t've let ‘em do that.”

America sighs and walks into the living room, not sure what to expect.

He starts looking around for Texas, and when he doesn’t see him, he gets confused.

“Up here!” Texas yells from somewhere above him.

America looks up and immediately has to cover his mouth to try in vain to cover his laughter.

Texas hands, suspended from the ceiling and stuck, covered in several colors of duct tape.

“DAD!” Texas whines, “help me.”

America tries to calm himself down to analyze the situation, but every time he looks up, he begins laughing again.

He gasps and turns to Kentucky, who is seated on the couch eating popcorn.

“What’s going on?” America asks.

“Bama and Sippi wanted to see if it was possible to tape someone to the ceiling. Tex volunteered cuz he didn’t think it ‘ud work,” Kentucky explains with a smile, gesturing to Texas, “and it just kinda went from there.”

America cackles.

“I didn’t think it would work!” Texas defends.

“Redneck engineering always works!” Alabama cheers, high fiving Mississippi.

Texas tries to squirm away, but he doesn’t very far.

“And how do you two plan to get him down?” America asks, hands on his hips.

Alabama and Mississippi look at each other before Mississippi shrugs.

“Didn’t think we’d get this far,” Mississippi says.

Texas groans dramatically.

“All y’all move,” Louisiana says from behind them.

America turns and sees Louisiana walking in with a ladder. She sets it up quickly and begins cutting the tape down. America shakes his head with an exasperated smile. He moves to stand under Texas, and Texas falls with a shriek.

America catches the ball of tape and teenager with a heavy sigh. He helps Texas to his feet and begins helping him unwrap himself, tearing the tape away. Once Texas’ arms are free, America stands back with a shake of his head.

“I have some paperwork to finish,” America says, “please don’t let your brothers tape you to something else.”

Texas looks away, his cheeks pink, and continues ripping tape off with a quiet, “Yes sir.”

America chuckles, pulling up Texas’ hat and ruffling his hair. Then he turns to Alabama and Mississippi only to see South Carolina walking in with arm fulls of tape.

‘Since when did we have that much?’

“No more taping your siblings to things.”

The kids give disappointed groans. America gives them a stern look, and they nod.

“Yes sir.”

“Sorry, dad.”


	20. GIVE HUG(Rusame)

"Russ?"

"What?"

"I'm cold."

"Okay. What do you want me to do about it? We're in the middle of a meeting."

"Hold meeeee"

"No."

"Please??"

"Meri..."

"I'm OCDL"

"Cold?"

"Yes. That me. N ow give hugs"

Russia sighs and shakes his head, turning off his phone and put it into his pocket. And honestly, if it hadn't been for his siblings sitting right next to him, Russia would've agreed the second America suggested it.

Then America catches his eye and smirks. Russia looks away.

'What is he planning?'

Well, Russia wouldn't have to wait long to figure it out. America slinks out of his seat, and Russia would've laughed at Canada's facial expression if he didn't suddenly have someone crawling into his lap. He nudges America away, and America lets him go for a second.

Then Russia feels his phone buzz.

"You kicked me"

"I said no."

"but hugs?"

Russia sighs.

America gets close to him and pokes his leg. Russia looks down and sees America giving him a pathetically disappointed look. It tugs at his heart and Russia looks away. His face turns warm. Ukraine elbows him.

"I think your boyfriend is trying to get your attention," Ukraine whispers with a smirk.

Russia feels his face grow hot, but doesn't deny it. He sighs and backs up a little, and seeing the glee on America's face was almost worth it. America crawls on top of him and curls up on his chest. The butterflies in Russia's stomach flutter at a new speed with everyone's eyes on him.

"What?" America snaps, and gives the other countries what Russia assumes is a nasty glare.

The others look away, but the noise did gain UN's attention.

"..and as you- what are you doing?" UN says, staring at Russia and his new attachment.

"I'm cold," America says dismissively.

"I- But-" UN sputters.

"What? This room is freezing and no one has any nameplates or nothing. I can sit where I want."

UN scowls, but looking around does nothing to help him. Canada shrugs, and Belarus just laughs.

Russia smiles, embarrassed, and America tilts his head up and leaves a small kiss on his jawbone. Russia feels his entire face go red and America giggles, laying his head on Russia's collarbone. 

"Don't worry. I got you," America whispers.

Russia giggles quietly, and then prays that none of his siblings heard him make that noise. He wraps America into a hug, and America hums happily and begins to play with the fibers on Russia's jacket.

'Maybe I could..'

Russia pushes America up a little and pulls down the zipper on his jacket. America takes this opportunity to dive in, leaning against him and burying his hands into the jacket, exploring the different pockets. Russia relaxes in his chair leaning back a little to find a comfortable balance. 

Russia watches America for the rest of the meeting as America curiously digs through his pockets and plays with the trinkets he finds. 

Funny keychains Russia had found and little movable models. Russia smiles.

'I knew he would love them.'

America lifts up the little action figure with stars in his eyes.

"Russia! Russia look. I can make it punch," America whispers loudly, his tone one of excitement that brings a smile to Russia's face, before he quietly starts making cartoonish sound effects under his breath. 

UN glares at America, and Russia glares back.

'You aren't talking about him, he doesn't have to pay attention,' Russia thinks defensively, 'besides, he isn't being disruptive anyway. Other people are having loud conversations, why do you care about us?'

UN gives him one last sour look before returning to his presentation. Russia feels a little pride and looks back down to America, who is looking at him like he had created the stars themselves.

"What?" Russia whispers.

"I'm not used to people defending me," America says, looking away, and his hands drop into his lap.

"You will be," Russia promises, tightening his grip.

"You're the best," America mumbles.

"I wouldn't say that."

"Hey," America hisses, hitting his chest, "don't say that! You are."

Russia smiles and rolls his eyes. Then he leans over and nuzzles the side of America's face. America laughs and playfully tries to push him back. 

"Wanna look at memes on my phone?" America asks quietly.

Russia nods. America opens his phone, and Russia has a hard time keeping his laughter quiet, especially after the states start spamming the family group chat with loads of images. Russia grins.


	21. Puppy Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have decided to go with the cliche whole thing of "all the countries live in around the same area" to make things easy for me. ANyways, enjoy.

Russia drops the cup back to the bar and laughs. Germany waves goodbye and Russia waves back, flashing him a smile. He shoves his hands into his pockets and sighs, walking home. The roads are empty and dark, and Russia shakes off the full moon warnings.

Then he hears a growl from behind him.

Russia turns around and sees something eyeing him from the shadows. 

'Dog?'

"Hello?"

The growling stops for a moment, and a hulking creature slinks out of the dark. Its shoulder joint came up to Russia's hips. Russia looks at it closely.

'It looks fluffy.'

"Hi," Russia coos, walking closer with his hands out, "you are very cute."

The animal didn't seem to know how to respond. It doesn't back away, but it still looks warily up at him. Russia thinks for a moment before standing and pulling out a piece of jerky he'd shoved in the pocket. He opens it and offers it to the creature. 

The wolf slowly approaches and takes the piece. The wolf eats it quickly and Russia laughs. 

"Good dog," Russia says, patting the wolf on the head.

The wolf huffs but doesn't seem aggressive anymore. Russia smiles and continues on his walk home when he notices that the wolf is following close behind him. Russia shrugs. 

'It hasn't attacked me, it's fine.'

He waves at Germany, who is also just arriving home. Germany looks at him, turns pale, and sprints inside.

'That's weird.'

Russia unlocks the door and is about to shut it when he spots the animal trying to get inside.

"Aw," Russia says, "you have to stay outside."

The animal looks up with sad eyes, its ears pinned back.

'Well, maybe it wouldn't be so bad...'

"Okay. Fine," Russia relents, opening the door.

The animal jumps up, excited, and knocks Russia over rushing inside. Russia falls back with a grunt and the creature spins around with a whine. It licks his face and tries to help him up with its nose. Russia sits up and the wolf gets exciting, licking his face and pawing at him. Russia laughs and playfully pushes the dog back. 

This only seems to make it more excited. The dog knocks Russia to his back and Russia laughs. When Russia finally manages to get back to his feet, he yawns.

"Now what am I going to do with you?" Russia mutters. 

The animal looks back up at him with a dopey grin, its tongue poking out of the side of its maw.

Russia rolls his eyes and stumbles into his room, and the wolf follows. 

The wolf forces itself into the blankets and Russia laughs. The wolf nuzzles his face and Russia grins.

'Acting like a puppy.'

Russia falls asleep.

~

America wakes up in an unfamiliar room, alone. 

'Oh no. Nononono.'

He begins to search himself for blood any sign of hurting someone. His clothes ripped, but still wearable, and he doesn't see anything. The inside of his mouth tastes like jerky.

'Where am I?'

'How did I get in here?'

Then the door starts to open, and Russia peaks inside the room.

"Russia?"

"Where's the wolf?" Russia asks, "and how did you get in here."

"I um..." America mumbles, "I am the wolf."

"So I'm not going crazy?" Russia asks.

America shakes his head.

"Did I hurt you?" America asks, his voice shaky.

"No," Russia says, "why?"

America looks away.

"I'm normally... pretty violent when I shift."

"Really?" Russia asks, "you acted more like a lost puppy."

"What?" America breaths, his eyes the size of saucers, "I didn't attack you?"

Russia shrugs.

"I gave you food. You followed me home."

America hums.

"Wait, are you the reason everyone has those warnings?" Russia asks, his voice one of doubt.

"Yeah," America admits, rubbing the back of his neck, "I can't control it. I tried to chain myself up and stay out of trouble, but I guess it didn't work." 

"You didn't hurt me," Russia says with a shrug.

"...would be okay if I stay with you during the full moon?"

"If you want to," Russia says with a shrug.

America feels a rush of relief and hope fills his mind.

"Really?"

"I don't care." 

America jumps up and pulls Russia into a tight hug. 

"Oh thank God," America mutters.

Russia laughs.

"You did look pretty cute," Russia comments playfully.

"Shut up!"


	22. Sick Day (Rusame)

Russia looks up from his pamphlet and sees America rubs his face as he sat at the meeting table.

‘He looks pale.’

America’s head slips off his hand he jerks up. His glasses slid from his face a little, and Russia got to see just how tired he looked. Russia cringes and looks away.

America shivers and hugs the sides of his jacket before he stands up and quickly walks out. Canada gives a concerned look toward the door before glancing at Russia for help.

‘They aren’t going to let him leave.’

Russia stands and deepens his scowl. Everyone averts their eyes from him and he confidently walks out. But as soon as he hears the door shut, he lets out a sigh.

‘Now to find Meri.’

Russia walks around to the bathrooms and walks in. He finds America hunched over the sink, shivering and leaning heavily on the countertop.

“That isn’t very clean,” Russia says, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, well, right now, I really don’t care,” America replies, his voice horse and slightly muffled.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just had to blow my nose,” America mumbles, “and as soon as this dizziness goes away, I’m going back to the meeting room.”

Russia huffs.

“I don’t think that is a good idea. You sound sick.”

“What? No, I’m fine,” America says with a dismissive wave and a forced smile that looked much more like a grimace than anything remotely happy.

Russia walks forward and puts a hand on America’s forehead. America leans into his touch with a soft hum.

‘You definitely have a fever.’

When Russia removes his hand, America sways and stumbles to keep from falling over.

“You must feel like shit,” Russia comments, “why did you come in today?”

“I couldn’t risk getting behind,” America defends with a congested cough.

“We are leaving,” Russia says, a tone of finality in his voice.

“But-”

“No. You look like shit and can barely stand. And I have to make sure you actually rest.”

“But UN-”

“I don’t care. I’ll get the paperwork after I get you settled in.”

America pouts and sniffles, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“Could you carry me?” America asks quietly, looking away with red cheeks.

‘Awww......’

“Of course,” Russia replies with a gentle smile.

“You are the best, Rue-Rue,” America mumbles as he shuffles forward, his hands out.

Russia scoops him up in an easy motion and America curls up around him, shivering. Russia lets America gets comfortable, and he wraps an arm under America’s legs and uses the other arm to rub circles on America’s back.

America hums.

“Best boyfriend ever,” America mumbles into his shoulder.

Russia smiles.

Russia walks quickly through the halls, his face falling into his resting expression, which tends to keep most questions at bay. America did have to wave off his security personal, but other than that, Russia easily got America into his car.

“I’ll be right back,” Russia says, “I have to go get the papers. Then we’ll go to the hotel.”

America groans in response. Russia rolls his eyes with an exasperated smile. He ruffles America’s hair with a smirk before he briskly walks back inside. He gathers his informational papers and asks UN for his and America's paperwork.

“Why?” UN questions.

“I am bringing America back to the hotel and have to make sure he stays there,” Russia says with a hard look.

UN scowls but hands over the papers. Russia gets the remaining paperwork from Canada before returning to the car. America is curled up in the passenger seat, eyes staring blankly out the passenger side window.

The drive is quick and Russia shoves the papers into a new-looking grey shoulder bag he slings over his shoulder.

He gets out and walks around the car. He opens America’s door only to find America unbuckled, but holding his arms up to be carried with the most pathetic look Russia had ever seen on his face.

Russia’s heart melts.

‘Okay. Fine. I’ll carry you inside.’

Russia gathers America up in his arms and walks in through a side-door, quietly making his way to his room. Once he gets inside, he lays America down on the bed and throws down the satchel before changing into something more comfortable.

Russia grabs his laptop and climbs onto the bed, and as soon as he’s sitting down, America crawls into his lap and latches onto him. Russia begins to play with America’s hair and America hums contently.

Russia opens his laptop and puts on a Russian sitcom, decided that he isn’t going to be getting anything done, and America seems to appreciate it.

‘See? Much better than being stuck in a meeting.’


End file.
